Be Sure Your Sins
by Never Stop Believing in Love
Summary: When Boyd agrees to meet an old friend for drink he doesn't fully consider the consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC**

**Content: Boyd and Grace **

**Rating: K**

**Thanks, as ever, for taking the time to read. A special thank you to Joodiff for being extremely patient and a genius Beta. **

**Be Sure Your Sins …**

Boyd's eyes opened suddenly, his heart sinking as slowly he began to focus on his surroundings. Unfamiliar surroundings. The stale taste of whiskey in his mouth was as bitter as poison. A poison he drank without fully acknowledging or accepting the consequences. He closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the light. The world. He wasn't ready to face it, not yet.

Music from the previous evening drifted into his consciousness, ringing accusingly in his ears. Music and whiskey, both accomplices to the situation he now found himself in. Too much bloody whiskey, he thought ominously as he attempted to ignore the incessant pounding in his head. Music. Whiskey. And her. An intoxicating combination at the best of times but given how things had been lately it had proved to be devastatingly lethal.

Her call had been a surprise. _'For old times' sake,'_ she'd said, _'just a friendly drink...'_ He couldn't leave it. Couldn't walk away. She was a beautiful woman and he was a man who enjoyed the rush of flirtation and the attention of women. And she was... unfinished business. He couldn't walk away. Not from _her_.

The bar was her choice; low light, soft rock music almost too loud but just about managing to stay on the right side of acceptable. It's wasn't the kind of place Boyd normally frequented, preferring instead the wine bars in Chelsea but he'd liked the place. It was different and off the beaten track. There was no chance of them being recognised there.

Boyd noticed her immediately, her form contrasting greatly with her surroundings. He felt himself smile as he watched her. Perfectly tailored in a fitted dark grey business skirt and cream silk blouse, she conversed easily with the barman while drinking beer straight from the bottle. She'd always been a contradiction; for as long as he'd known her she'd never been what he expected. It excited him. _She_ excited him.

Boyd approached the bar. "Whiskey please, and whatever the lady is having."

"Another of these please," she answered, motioning to her bottle before turning to look at him. "Hello, Boyd... it's good to see you again."

"Hi, Sarah." He smiled fondly as he rested himself on the bar stool opposite.

"You look well... Have you been working out?"

"Oh piss off..." Boyd guffawed as he lifted his whiskey to his lips. "You, on the other hand, look just as stunning as ever." Such a dangerous game to play. So very dangerous.

"You see, that's the problem with you Brits. Never know how to take a compliment, but are so skilled in giving them. Gets me into trouble every time."

"You and me both... So what has you back in London then?"

"Work."

"Ah. Still with Mossad?"

Sarah nodded causing her brunette hair to fall loosely around her face. She tucked it slowly behind her ear. Yes, so very dangerous.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Can't. It's... erm… sensitive."

He nodded in understanding. "How long are you here for?"

"Only a couple of days. I fly back to New York on Monday."

"It really is good to see you, you know." He meant it. God help him, Boyd meant it.

"Well I couldn't be in town and not call." Sarah's eyes fell away from him as she continued, "Anyway I needed to apologise for the last time we spoke..."

Boyd waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it."

"I don't want to forget it. I wasn't there when you needed me, it was inexcusable..."

"You had work commitments; I knew that."

"No, it wasn't just work. I didn't know how to handle it. How to handle you. You were hurting, and even though I was back in New York, just speaking with you brought back memories."

"Of losing John?"

Sarah nodded gently in reply.

"Look you don't need to explain it was a long time ago..."

She interrupted, "It's hard to know the man you loved is broken and yet you feel helpless to help. Your pain… It was so raw and it reminded me of how much I'd been hurt. I couldn't bear to go through it again so it was easier to push you away."

"In case I ended up hurting you too...?"

Again she nodded. "I couldn't take the chance."

Boyd allowed the silence to pass over them for a few moments. At the time he had been so consumed with the loss of Luke he hadn't had the energy to even consider Sarah or her feelings. The distance between them had made it easier to move on, to forget the time they had together. Seeing her again tonight made it painfully obvious that he'd never fully managed to forget her, or how she could make him feel.

He ordered another round of drinks and they retreated to a table in the corner of the bar. The drinks flowed liberally for the rest of the evening just as their conversation flowed easily. Two old friends making up for lost time. He felt relaxed. For the first time in months he wasn't waiting for his life to erupt, wasn't tiring himself out from walking on eggshells until he finally lost patience and trampled all over them. No more apologies. No stress. Just fond memories.

So very dangerous.

"It's getting late, I'd better grab a cab."

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

"Hilton Kensington."

"Okay; well we can share a taxi if you want. I can drop you off on the way home."

As the taxi drew alongside the hotel Sarah turned towards him.

"I had a good time tonight."

Boyd allowed her soft American accent to wash over him, the alcohol mellowing his mood.

"I did too; thanks for getting in touch, it was good to see you again."

"We had some good times, you and I, didn't we?"

Boyd smiled gently. Immediately the atmosphere between them changed, no longer was this about the past. She had the same look in her eyes as she'd had the day they sat on that bench in New York and she'd kissed him for the first time, but this was very much about the present. Right here. Now. And right now Boyd wanted her. more than anything else, he wanted her.

His hand brushed against hers but rather than remove it he allowed it to linger, their fingers playfully interlocked. Slowly Sarah inclined her head until her mouth was inches from his. He closed the gap without hesitation, kissing her unreservedly. When she got out of the cab there had been no discussion about whether he would follow; both of them had known there was no doubt that he would. He reached across and paid the driver then followed her into the entrance of the hotel.

The room had minimal lighting heightening the mood. Sarah moved closer, her eyes never leaving his. Boyd knew what she wanted. What they both wanted. Slowly her hands began to open the buttons on his shirt leaving his chest bare. Painted nails traced a path between his chest and his waist leaving faint red marks on his skin as seductively she allowed her hands to wander. Her lips followed the trail her hands had made, tongue playfully enticing him.

He should have stopped it right then. Should have re-buttoned his shirt and left. But he was lost. Lost in her and the familiar feeling she was igniting inside him. They had been good together. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it. His weakness had always been strong women.

He should have stopped it, but he didn't. Instead he lifted her head so her face met his. Hungrily his lips claimed hers. He didn't think about his actions, didn't want to think. He just wanted her. Needed her.

The morning light was a harsh accuser. He should have walked away last night. But he hadn't. The pounding in his head grew louder, each thump driving another nail into his self-made coffin. His stomach turned. Too much whiskey and the scent of her still on his skin.

He felt a stirring against his back as her arm snaked around his waist. He tightened his closed eyes as she kissed his shoulder gently. Slowly he turned over.

"Hi..." he smiled gently.

"Good morning, you okay?"

Boyd groaned. "Bloody headache ..."

Sarah laughed. "You did put it away last night."

"I wasn't the only one if memory serves me right."

"And yet I don't appear to be suffering as much as you."

"Give a man a break, eh?"

Sarah smiled again, leaning in to softly kiss him.

Boyd hesitated. "I should go ..."

"You don't want breakfast?"

"Erm ... I ... I really should make a move," he answered awkwardly as he rolled away from her.

"Can't wait to get away, huh?"

"No, it's not that," he lied turning back to look at her. "I just have some things to do. I wasn't exactly planning to stay over."

"It's okay, Boyd, we're grown-ups. I don't need hearts and flowers and promises of forever."

Boyd got to his feet, locating his clothes. He could feel her eyes burning into his back. Appraising him. Not usually a self-conscious man, this was new territory for him. He needed to get dressed and get out. To clear his head and work out what the bloody hell he can do next. Pulling on his trousers and shirt he walked into the adjoining bathroom. Running the cold water he bent over the sink and splashed his face but no matter how many times the water hit him he couldn't erase the feeling of foreboding that weighed heavily around him. He caught glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and venomously cursed his weakness.

When he returned Sarah was out of bed and wrapped only in a hotel robe.

"So this is it then... again."

Boyd nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"It was good to see you again, Peter." She reached up and brushed her lips across his.

"Goodbye, Sarah..."

* * *

The noise of the front door closing behind him reverberated around Boyd's skull. He leant his weight momentarily against the wall in the hallway. He needed time to think, time to wade through the fog that's polluted his mind. Sighing forlornly he closed his eyes. Flash-backs to the previous evening came back to him in unstoppable waves provoking his guilt. Her touch. The way she'd wanted him. The way she made him feel. It'd been a long time since it was so easy to let go. No thinking, no apologies, just raw primitive sex. For a few hours he'd been happy to forget his life and responsibilities until the dawn when reality began to seep through his consciousness and taunt him about what he'd done. He would have given everything to have woken in his own bed that morning, having wisely retreated the night before. Foolish, foolish, weak man.

The shower was hot, almost too hot for his skin but he needed to wash her from him. He lost track of time as he stood under the flow of water. He was tired. Mentally and physically. It had been a tough few weeks - months if he was honest. Emotions being pushed one way then pulled another. He's tired of the fight. It's all he's known. He'd dreamed it would be different but deep down he knew this was how it was fated to be.

The knock at his door was not unexpected. He'd known she would come... eventually. Sighing deeply he opened the door to the elements and to her. His eyes searched hers in a bid to discern the mood between them. She smiled lightly. "Hi."

"Hi, Grace..."

"Am I forgiven yet?"

Boyd shrugged dismissively. "You were the one who stormed off home ..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. You know how we are when we argue. Sometimes we just need a bit of space between us..."

He took a steading breath. "Come in..." He motioned with his head for her to follow him and closed the door behind them.

Grace paused, placing her arms around his waist as she rested her head against his chest. "I really am sorry you know. I hate it when we fight."

Boyd's arms tightened around her. Her body felt so fragile in his arms. He was supposed to protect her, prevent her from being hurt; instead he's the one who will deal the most devastating of blows. Betrayal.

Remorse once again rose from his depths as he closed his eyes. He knew what he should do, but also knew what it would mean. Slowly Grace lifted her head and found his lips with her own. Boyd's heart constricted, choked by the weight of his guilt. He deepened the kiss knowing that it would be one of the last times he held her like this. When he finally tells her, things will never be the same again...

tbc ….


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC**

**Content: Boyd and Grace **

**Rating: K**

**Thank you for continuing to read – I hope that you are enjoying it. **

**Three years ago today the BBC aired 'Waterloo', the final ever episode of Waking the Dead. Personally I think it was a massive mistake cancelling this show. I miss Boyd, Grace and the rest of the team, but would like to thank every writer on this fandom for keeping them alive. xx**

**Be Sure Your Sins … cont**

"Drink?"

"Hmm yes please. Wine if you have it." Grace replied removing her coat. Boyd nodded as he continued into the kitchen. "Have you eaten?"

"No. I thought we could go out. The Italian maybe?"

Boyd hesitated. A restaurant would be a welcome distraction but he couldn't face it. He felt completely transparent, everyone would witness his guilt. "Do you mind if we stay in tonight?"

"Yea fine... you okay?"

He was anything but okay. Just seeing her standing in his kitchen - lovely trusting Grace - tore at his heart. He hadn't planned it. Hurting Grace had been the last thing he wanted to do. He loved her. But it hadn't been enough. It didn't stop him from...

_"Once a cheat always a cheat!"_ Mary had spat those words at him many years ago after finding out about his affair with Jess. He thought he'd changed, learnt from his mistakes, especially now he was finally with Grace. He'd wanted this for so long.

He sighed deeply. "Just tired, I don't think I can face going out tonight. We can get takeaway, Chinese food okay?"

"Mm, yes sounds good."

Boyd handed her the glass of wine and busied himself looking for the takeaway menu. His mind was in chaos. It would be so easy to keep quiet about Sarah, the consequences too grave to even contemplate. She would be on a plane back to New York on Monday, no-one would ever know of his infidelity. But this was Grace and he'd always been honest with her, even at times when it was painful. That was a factor in why they fought so often and so brutally. Passionate... in every way imaginable. He didn't have to pretend with her, she knew him better than he sometimes knew himself. It was as disturbing as it was comforting. Boyd had never known another woman like her. Totally infuriating yet endearing all at once. How could he have been so stupid? So weak.

He picked through his food, his appetite non-existent. Still the battle continued to rage within him. Keep quiet, let the dust settle and things would return to normal. Eventually. But Grace deserved so more than his lies and deceit. So the inner fight continued, eating relentlessly away at him like a parasite. If he confessed he knew what it meant for them and that thought made him sick. One night. One stupid night and he had lost everything.

His mind drifted mercilessly through the past decade. Falling in love with Grace had been gradual, years of working together, of her getting under his skin. When he had finally kissed her he'd never been more certain of anything in his life. He was completely in love with her and had been for quite some time. She'd stood by him, during the months of investigation into his part of the Nicholson affair. When the world was his accuser she had trusted him implicitly. _She had trusted him_. The words reverberated around his head. Accusingly. What a way to repay her.

So the battle raged...

The television was a welcome distraction. The pictures flickered and changed before his eyes but Boyd couldn't focus on it. He was distant. He knew it. The atmosphere between them was frosty at best. It had been good .. once ... very good, for a while. Being lovers and friends worked well for them. But retirement brought with it time and the arguments they once thrived on became tiresome, their energy for one another waning. He knew Grace felt it too. Could see the pain his harsh words caused as she felt the sting they delivered. Every row seemed more bitter than the last, every word hurting deeper. They were slowly killing one another.

Grace was sitting next to him, body inclined towards his. She looked up at him her eyes meeting his. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been uncharacteristically quiet."

"Huh...? Yea I'm fine," he lied once again.

"And I'm definitely forgiven?"

"I've said so, haven't I?" Boyd snapped, in a tone harsher than he intended, his guilt causing him to be strongly defensive.

Grace nodded acceptance unconvincingly.

They continued watching the television in silence neither fully concentrating on the images. Slowly Grace moved her hand across his chest, her fingers finding their way under the material where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. Tenderly she stroked his skin. Boyd closed his eyes enjoying the feel of her touch. Flesh on flesh. Her skin against his.

Deftly her fingers began to unbutton his shirt. Boyd felt his heart constrict as immediately his mind conjured memories of the previous evening. Every movement piercing like a blade though his chest. She reached for his lips, hands still caressing his chest. He instinctively responded, but his guilt became too much, beginning to suffocate him.

He couldn't do this.

"Grace, wait. Stop please," he said stilling her hands.

Grace straightened up, confusion etched deeply on her features. "What?"

"I just... erm... not tonight, eh?"

"What's wrong? Are you still pissed off about the other evening?"

"No, it's not you..."

Her expression hardened a little. "Don't even think about giving me the 'it's not you it's me' speech. There's been something wrong all night. Just tell me, Boyd."

"I've told you, I'm fine!"

"Evidently not! Look, you said you'd forgiven me for what I said, so why are you behaving like you can't bear to have me around?"

"I'm tired, Grace. That's all. Can we not do this now?"

"I just want to know what the problem is. What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing. I just don't feel up to doing... this... tonight." He motioned clumsily between them.

The rejection she felt showed in her eyes as once again silence descended between them like an invisible wall.

"Boyd..." she finally said.

He knew that tone. Had heard it many times over the years. Grace was not about to let this go, she wanted to talk it out, analyse his mood and if she didn't stop soon she was going to force his hand.

"Grace, please..."

"We can't go on like this. We need to sort it out."

"Believe me you really don't want to do this."

"I know it's difficult but..."

"I'm just tired; can't you just accept that?"

"Maybe, if it was just tonight. But we've been at one another's throats for weeks..."

"Years..." he interjected dryly.

"...if we are going to make this work we have got to be honest with one another."

"Come on, Grace. We argue all the bloody time. It's what we do."

"And that makes it alright, does it?" she asked sharply.

"No I'm not saying that, I'm just trying to explain..."

"And I'm trying to tell you that I'm sick of leaving here feeling hurt and confused. I don't know where I stand with you half the time, Boyd."

"And you think it's easy for me?"

"I think it's no way for either of us to live. Look, you know I want to be with you and I think you feel the same way, but we're tearing each other apart. If you'd just discuss it like any other reasonable human being..."

Boyd's mind drifted to the previous evening. It had all been so easy. No arguments. No demands. No analysing. It had felt good, taking what he needed, what they both needed. They had used each other, he'd no doubt of that, but they'd done so knowingly.

"Grace, leave it..." he warned. He was done, torn between the escape that Sarah had been and the constant persistence of Grace's incessant questioning.

"What could be so bad that we can't even – "

"I slept with someone else, alright," he snapped before quietly repeating, "... I slept with someone else, Grace."

tbc ...


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC**

**Content: Boyd and Grace **

**Rating: K**

**Thank you for your continued interest in this story and for your lovely reviews. I appreciate them all immensely.**

**Be Sure Your Sins … cont**

If Boyd had stabbed her straight through the heart with a dagger he wouldn't have inflicted as much pain as he witnessed instantaneously flood into her eyes. She visibly reeled under his admission. Immediately he regretted giving into his frustration and blurting out the words in anger. He wanted to take them back, scoop her in his arms and hold her until she eventually forgave him. Silently she stood up and began gathering her things.

"C'mon, Grace, don't leave, not like this. We need to talk," he begged, following her up, but his words fell on deaf ears as she continued getting ready to leave. He grabbed her arm a little too roughly in his haste, unwilling to let her go. "Grace... please..." She lifted her gaze to glare at him. So much hurt, so much pain pooled within a sea of blue.

"Please what, Boyd? Forgive you? Tell you it doesn't matter? Tell you that I understand? Well I don't! I don't understand and I don't forgive you."

He didn't release his grip on her. "At least let's talk about it..."

"So _now_ you want to talk? Well there's nothing you can say that I want to hear."

"I was stupid, wrong..."

"No, I think you'll find that I'm the stupid one for ever allowing myself to get involved with you!"

"It only happened once..."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Grace, we were fighting, I was angry..."

She shook his hand away. "And so you thought you'd screw the first woman who threw herself at you. You never bloody change, Boyd!"

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

She moved away from him. "Everything always has to be on your terms, and when things get difficult and don't go your way you think you can behave whatever the hell way you like regardless of who you hurt in the process."

His voice fell to no more than a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Grace."

"And how exactly did you think I'd feel?"

Boyd stilled. He couldn't tell her that he hadn't once considered how she would feel. His mind had been so caught up in the moment that it was completely consumed with only Sarah. How she felt. How she made him feel. Thoughts of Grace had only come much later, when it was too late. By then the damage had already been done.

"It was a mistake; a stupid mistake."

"So c'mon then, you want to talk about it, where did you meet this _'stupid mistake'_ then?"

"She's an... old friend."

Grace guffawed. "Oh so you knew her then? This wasn't just a cheap slapper you picked up in a bar?"

Boyd slowly shook his head.

"Who was she?" Grace demanded.

"What?" He blinked. "Look, you don't need to do this. Who she was doesn't matter."

"It matters to me, Boyd. I want to know who you threw everything we had away for!"

"Don't say that..."

"Who, Boyd?" Grace demanded again.

"Sarah." The admission was quiet and reluctant.

Grace's eyes widened in disbelief. "Sarah Levin?"

"Yea."

Her reaction to the mention of Sarah's name was immediate. "You make me sick! You know how I feel about her, how she makes me feel. Anyone else – you could have chosen to shag _anyone_ else but no, it had to be her didn't it? Sarah _bloody_ Levin! Bored of the old lady so you go back to the younger model!"

"I didn't plan it..."

"But you didn't respect me enough to keep your zip done up did you?"

Boyd's head dropped. Sighing dejectedly he closed his eyes. She was right. He should have made his excuses and left Sarah. This mess was of his own making. "I'm ...I'm sorry, Grace."

"I just hope she was worth it, Boyd."

Her parting words echoed around the living room were joined only by the noise of the front door slamming loudly as she left.

tbc …


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC**

**Content: Boyd and Grace **

**Rating: K**

**Hey everyone, thank you for continuing to read this story and for your reviews. It's great to hear that you have 'enjoyed' it & I hope this final update will not disappoint. Thank you also to the writer (Cat?) who came up with Sarah's surname that we all now use as canon. I hope you don't mind that I used it also for this fic. xx**

**Epilogue **

Grace pulled the door closed behind her and rested her back against it. She'd lived in this house for the past fifteen years but over the last few weeks had packed all her belongings into carefully labelled cardboard boxes and watched as they were loaded into the back of a truck and driven to their new destination. Some to a storage unit she had rented until she could finally bear to part with them, the rest to the small cottage in Wales she'd recently purchased. She would miss London, but it was the right time for her to move on as there was nothing left for her here now. Before she left, however, there was something she needed to do. Taking one final look around she pushed her keys through the letterbox and walked towards her car.

Boyd was already there when she arrived, waiting patiently. He got to his feet when he saw her.

"Hi Grace, you look well," he nervously opened.

She wished she could say the same about him, but he looked tired. His hair and beard longer than usual and his eyes heavy from lack of sleep and far too much alcohol.

"Drink?"

She smiled gently. "Yes, a glass of red please."

Boyd motioned to the waitress and placed the order before turning his attention back to her. "Thanks for agreeing to meet me."

"I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye..."

He looked startled. "You're leaving?"

"Mmm. I've rented the house out; it's time for a fresh start."

"Where are you going?"

"Colwyn Bay."

"Wales?"

She nodded.

"Why there?"

"I've always liked the sea and the Welsh..."

He grimaced. "And it's miles away from me?"

Grace sighed deeply. "There are too many memories in London. It's time for a new beginning. My publisher has asked for another two books so the cottage will be perfect for me to write in."

Boyd nodded and momentarily Grace was struck by how lost he looked. Gone was the self-assured man she'd known so well and before her now sat a man who was... lost.

"Grace, I want to apologise for..."

"Don't, Boyd."

"Please, I need to say it. I never intended to hurt you and for what it's worth it was the biggest mistake of my life."

"What's done is done. At least we tried... no regrets."

"I regret what I..."

Grace reached over and placed her hand on top of his. "No regrets, Boyd," she repeated firmly, her eyes holding his gaze. Removing her hand she gathered her bag, "I should go, it's a long drive to Wales."

Boyd stood up to join her. "I won't see you again, will I?"

Grace shook her head sadly, the significance of the moment not lost on her.

"No," was the only word she could manage to push beyond the lump in her throat.

Again he nodded. "Goodbye, Grace," he said as he reached over and placed a hesitant kiss on her cheek.

"Bye, Boyd." Grace turned quickly walking towards the door before she had the chance to change her mind. She didn't look back, not once, afraid of what she might see. It was only outside when she breathed in the fresh morning air that she allowed her tears to fall.

Fin

Page **2** of **2**


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